


midnight

by loupettes



Series: New Years Eve [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, New Year's Eve, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loupettes/pseuds/loupettes
Summary: “Do you have any new years resolutions?” She whispered nervously.Ten x Rose, fluff, jealousy and lots of Ten pining over Rose at a New Years Eve party. Requested for the prompt "midnight". I'm a little early, but 2020 has proven that there are no rules. [COMPLETE]
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: New Years Eve [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069142
Comments: 16
Kudos: 50





	1. Part one

**Author's Note:**

> One year on from [prate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091021), although not needed to understand the story.

Same day, different year. 

He scanned the room, looking for something to do that would involve minimal effort but bring about maximal reward; the goal being either eating food, time with Rose or getting out of here, and since getting out of here wasn’t really an option - wait, or was it? _No, you promised_ -, and Rose was busy talking to her friends, food was all that remained. 

New Years Eve. What a bloody show of an expiration date. He was in the same place as last year - ok, well, not _exactly_ the same place; last year he was in a pub, this year he was at her aunty’s or cousin’s or laundrette lady’s flat for their New Year's Eve party. But he was in the same situation - ok, well, not _exactly_ the same situation; last year he was trying his best to avoid Shareen and her attempts of seduction, but she seemed to have backed away now so he was at least clear of that one. Ok, so he was in the same _headspace_ when it came to Rose. Basically, that’s what he was recognising: he’d neither advanced with nor completely repulsed Rose Tyler. 

Who, by the way, looked gorgeous. He was past the point of caring, now, about just how much he was completely flummoxed by and apparently almost entirely subservient to his physical attraction towards her. He had to restrain himself in every single aspect of their relationship that at this point it was a case of deciding what was worth actually putting a stop to and what putting a stop to was only just adding to the stress. He’d decided quite early on that allowing himself to appreciate the soft curves of her physique, the slender yet toned shape of her legs, the occasional mole he’d spot when she’d reach for something and reveal a patch of skin normally hidden under her t-shirt, was a reasonable compromise to a particularly gruelling task. Next on the list was stopping his thoughts from taking him down the possibility of what he could _do_ if he allowed himself more than to just appreciate, if he allowed himself to run his fingers across those soft curves, skirt them up those slender yet toned legs, use them to discover other marks on her body that were otherwise hidden- 

He shook his head. Right then. 2007, what have we got? Gordon Brown becomes the prime minister, Rhianna releases that song that never shuts up about the weather, that soon-to-become cultural icon that was Spider-Man 3. All these people here in this room not knowing what to expect, a year full of possibilities just around the corner. The room was drunk in anticipation, a giddiness in the name of the unknown. Not for him, though. Never for him. He knew what this lot had in store for them. 

He unfolded his arms with a heavy sigh, manoeuvring around groups of people and a dog, apparently, to reach the buffet table. Which was lacking, to say the least. Some Tesco pigs in blankets were still left though, so it would seem 2006 had still yet to hang up its hat in defeat. He made sure to leave at least one on the plate, grabbing a few ready salted crisps and a small bite-sized brownie or four on a plate before turning around to observe the crowd once more, slightly less miserably so now that he could be entertained with some food. 

Rose. There she was. She was- this was- come on, she _looked_ -. He tore his gaze away and focused on _other_ people in the room; it was becoming a bit ridiculous, really. He just about managed a platonic and monotoned “fine” when she’d asked him earlier how she looked. Not the response she was going for, he’d imagined, but by the look on her face, one she had expected and was prepared for. But goodness did she look bloody stunning; thin straps, fitted, mid-thigh length black dress with a black pair of strappy heels: simple yet, as predicted, mesmerising. She wore her hair up; a rare occasion that only drew attention to her neck, the way it curved deliciously into her shoulders, her exposed collar bone all too enticing. She was also wearing a necklace he’d got her _ages_ ago; a keepsake of the time she prevented the outbreak of civil war on Samur and was gifted a Poudretteite for it being close to the shade Rose. If he let those thoughts of his drift, he took pleasure in imagining that he was there for all to see, a part of him she was wearing around her neck that said she was his, a token that warned others that she belonged to him. He sighed again in disdain. _Oh, stop it, nothing wrong with that._ Nothing wrong with a bit of harmless possessiveness, especially not when it’s only in imagination. 

He’d like to imagine, then, that she _was_ his. The man she was talking to currently, an old friend perhaps, had no chance. Rose’s heart lay elsewhere, somewhere inside him and it was _his_ now _._ He was the one she was going home with at the end of the night, he was the one she will sleep besides tonight and he’s the one who's promising her life to. She’d given him forever, which meant she was off-limits to everyone else. A nice thought, certainly a pleasurable one to entertain, but not true by any means. 

His hand searched his plate for the next mouthful of food but he was more than disappointed to learn he’d finished it all. He lifted the plate up and glanced at the floor to double-check he hadn’t dropped any - not that he’d pick it up and shovel it in any way. Well, he might have done - they were bloody good pigs in blankets. 

“Hello again.”

He yelped; it was more the voice than the element of surprise that caused him to. He spun around to find Shareen, Rose’s mate who had decided quite early on last year that he was her conquest for the night. No. No please, please not tonight. Or any other night. “Oh, yes, right- hello, you-“

“-oh stop it,” she chuckled. “Not gonna try an’ snog you again, alright?”

He swallowed thickly, nodding. 

“‘ fact, I was coming to say sorry. I was a bit drunk last year, and I’d just had quite a bad breakup. Didn’t mean to make you spend your New Years Eve hiding from me.”

He shook his head to allow him time to find that voice of his. “Na, no, it’s ok.” He tugged his ear, trying to smother the resurfacing memories of this time last year. “Nice to see you again. How’ve you been?”

She smiled a friendly smile that made him at least a little more at ease. He dropped his hand. “Not bad! Well, as you know. Getting married.” She held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers to draw attention to the ring. Ah yes, as he knew. Yes. So he did. “Rose said you two are coming to the wedding in Feb?”

It took a momentous amount of effort to not audibly scoff. The little rascal! When had she made this bold move to agree to a _wedding_ of all things and not tell him? “Oh, yes. She did.” He nodded slowly, Shareen watching him with caution. “Oh! Right, yes. Congratulations!”

She finally smiled. “Thank you! Yes, I can’t believe it. Bit quick, in’t it? But I guess, when you know, you know. Right?”

He nodded again in agreement, anything to avoid an uncomfortable silence. He finished his nodding, but she continued to stare, her eyebrow raised. 

“Right,” he confirmed. 

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Know?”

“About what?”

“Well, you know, too, right? With Rose?”

“I know what about Rose?”

“Cor, you’re just like the others!” Shareen chuckled, sticking a cocktail stick in the last of the pigs and blankets. He mourned his loss. She rolled her eyes, boldly placing her hand on his arm. “So, I’m saying, you must know whether Rose is the one!”

Oh, fuck. What amount of time and space was he willing to sacrifice for the floor to collapse and he could just leave the vicinity swiftly. And create a bit of trouble along the way. He swallowed and chocked a little, coughing awkwardly. Shareen wasn’t making it easy for him, watching him with a smug little smile on her face that he now realised was where Rose got hers from. “Oh god,” she moaned, “don’t tell me you’re one of _those_ blokes. Afraid of commitment, that sorta thing?”

He searched desperately for an escape since the floor did not seem to want to cooperate. Any other person, any other time, any other place and he’d have just walked away. Not given them the time of day. But he knew how important Shareen was to Rose, apparently enough to make her the _maid of honour_ , and he didn’t much want a slap later for being mean to her best friend. He sighed deeply, resigning to his inescapable stance between a rock and a hard place.

She scoffed. “She’s my best mate, it’s my job to make sure she ain’t bein’ mistreated.” 

He had learnt from his time with Rose that saying nothing in these types of situations was worse than saying the wrong thing. “I’m not mistreating her.”

“Sounds a bit like you’re stringing her along.”

“How!”

“By not committing!”

“Who says I’m not?!”

“She told me you aren’t the committing type!”

“She _told_ you?”

“Course she did! Like I say, best mates!”

He shuddered; the thought of him being the topic of conversation between Rose and her best friend for nights on end over the phone on the TARDIS filled him with dread. Although... there was that list of things again: was it acceptable or not acceptable to ask Shareen to divulge more of Rose’s view of the relationship that could never ever never happen between them?

“What else did she say?”

Shareen grinned. “That’s between me and Rose. You need to get your act together, mister. And don’t think I won’t come for you if you dare break her heart.” She grabbed a napkin and cleaned her hands, scrunching it up and chucking it in the Snowman themed bin besides the table. “Never know, anyway. I’ve got a bouquet, and she _is_ the maid of honour. Tradition n’ all, I might be helping you along. If you know what I mean! You can thank me later.” She winked, and he had no idea what she meant but he nodded. “Anyway, I’ll see you in Feb, yeah? Rose told you the colour scheme I imagine, so just let us know whether you want the lamb or the - you know what, never mind, I’ll tell Rose.” She waved her hand, dissolving back into the crowd.

He blew out a breath. February weddings, commitment, colour pallets? This was not what he had in mind when he initially asked a human to come with him. In fact, he didn’t intend for any of this, and certainly not falling in love. He groaned, trying not to think about how he’d gotten himself into this mess and how it only seemed to be getting worse each day. 

Weddings, right. Weddings. Oh god, _weddings_. What, so he shows up to this never-ending ceremony celebrating a couple’s need to repeat an old man's words in front of all their friends and family to somehow prove that which they already know, matching with Rose’s dress… oh, Rose’s dress. What would she be wearing? February, perhaps spring colours then. Some light pastels, maybe, a blush? Oh, a light shade of pink would look gorgeous on Rose, complimenting her cool-toned skin exquisitely. Pink wasn’t massively his colour, but he could make it work. Hold on, pink tie brown suit? What is he a chocolate and strawberry cupcake? So he’ll have to get another suit. Rose can help with that. Rose probably won’t even be there! She’ll likely be off most of the day with maid of honour duties and all that, but perhaps there might be an opportunity to catch her when things had quietened down a little, maybe on the dance floor, his hands on her waist- 

For Christ’s sake, he was doing it again. He needed to get out, get some air, maybe nip to the 19th century for some of that old peanut brittle from that corner shop in Hampstead Heath-

“Nope, come ‘ere!”

He felt a hand grab his sleeve and he was yanked sideways into the crowd. The voice he recognised to be that of Rose’s, and he was confirmed of his suspicions when he felt a hand slitting neatly into his that he knew by now to be hers. “Want you to meet my friend, you’ll like him! He’s studying physics at the moment at Cambridge - Cambridge! _The_ Cambridge! We know someone who studies _physics_ at _Cambridge_!” 

Part of him decided to interpret that as she was wooed by intelligence, and an extension of that meant that he already had his competitive streak gearing to go because, as much as the bugger might be studying physics at Cambridge, he wasn’t a lord of time now, was he?

“Oh. Where’d he go?”

Oh, thank Christ for that. He was less than enthusiastic about meeting another one of Roses boyfriends. Rose dropped his hand in her search for this friend of hers who, for no reason whatsoever, the Doctor had decided he was not overly fond of. She frowned, dropping in height by a few inches and he realised she’d been standing on tiptoes. She shook her head and looked at him. “Nevermind. I'll find him later. Anyway, how’ve you been? Survivin’?”

“Oh, great. Yeah. Wonderful. Lovely. Tiptop. Spick n’ span.”

She slapped his arm. “Alright, alright, I know. Parties ain’t your thing but this means a lot to my mum and I’m really grateful you came.” She smiled her brilliant smile, the smile that makes a person forget past and current and future woes, and stood back up on her tiptoes to place a chaste kiss of gratitude on his cheek. He closed his eyes and realised that alone was apparently enough to make up for all discomfort he’d felt until now. 

“Speaking of parties. When were you gonna tell me about Shareen’s wedding?”

Rose’s cheeks speckled pink, a sight he was mesmerised by. “You spoke to Shareen?”

“Not through my own initiation, I’ll assure you, but she told me you were her maid of honour?”

“Yeah, no yeah she asked me, um, a while ago?”

“Ah right. And just how have you been handling that title?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“Lots of responsibility, the maid of honour. No?”

“You saying I can’t handle responsibility?”

“I’m saying you might not be able to handle it as well at the other end of the universe 5000 years from now, perhaps not.”

She chuckled. “Alight, so she knows I’m busy, but she still wanted me as her maid of honour. She always did do most of the work herself anyway, but she’s been emailing me pictures of various wedding dresses - we’ve found the right one, thanks for asking.” 

“And?”

“And what?”

“What else?”

“Right, fine yes.” She cleared her throat, smoothing her skirt down and resetting her character. She cleared her throat. “Doctor?”

“What.”

“My best mate’s getting married and she asked me to be her maid of honour, I was wondering if we could… maybe… you know, keep to my appointments? Final dress fittings, witnessing the union of two people in matrimony, that sort of stuff.”

“My time machine is not your PA.”

She scoffed, about to make a snarky remark before realising she did not, for once, hold the moral high ground. She softened her approach at the raise of his eyebrow. “Please?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. But next time, tell me in advance that you’ve agreed for me to come along to a wedding? That way I can get out of it before the bride herself asks me.”

“Why’d you think I didn’t tell you?”

“You, Rose Tyler, are a scallywag.”

“Well, listen,” she grinned. “Time lord and all that, you always know what’s 'round the corner. Call this my 2007 surprise to you.”

“Remind me to go over 'surprise' etiquette with you soon.”

She’d started pulling him closer, or perhaps she’d started pulling herself closer to him, but the next thing he knew she’d meticulously wrapped her arms around his waist and settled comfily against his chest. His arms fell limp besides him but it would seem as though his brain had developed a new reflex to slip his around her whenever he found himself in such a scenario. 

Sometimes, it was hard to be in such an embrace with Rose. His hearts would ache to be closer to hers, and he’d feel a sort of physical pain in the centre where he knew hers belonged but wasn’t quite there yet. And then sometimes, like right now, it was _unbearable._ He was all consumed by her, at all times and it was beyond endurance. The only way to cope, the only method he had found useful although not optimal was to pull away. It often left her confused and angry even, but it was better than the alternative. So he did so now: extract himself from her hold with an inner strength he didn’t know how much he had left. 

“Hey,” she tightened her hold, keeping him in place. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” His hands left her back and his shoulders had raised, trying to keep contact to a minimum while he still could.

“Doctor,” she whispered sadly, leaning back into him and allowing her hands to roam about his back slowly before settling still to hold herself to him. He didn’t think he could feel any more uncomfortable until he heard the sadness in her voice. “Please. It’s New Year's Eve.”

A rock and a hard place once more, only one option was much more enticing and so much more desirable than the other. If she could _just_ let him go, any second now-

She sniffed, before pulling back. Not looking at him, she shook her head. “No,‘ course. Doesn’t matter.” She smoothed down her hair and neatened her dress before nodding to somebody over her shoulder. “I’m gonna catch up with Johnny, been meaning to ask him how the cafe’s going. Catch you later.”

She nudged past him and his chest hollowed at the sound of her faint sniffles.


	2. Part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He sighed in relief, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “Phew! See, between me and you, me an’ Rose have always sorta had this thing, y’know? Back before she started dating Jimmy and she’d just always been in a relationship, so I’ve kept my distance - “_
> 
> _“Waiting for the right time to swoop in, I get it.” The Doctor muttered bitterly._

Same day, different hour. 

See, it wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t very aware that he only had himself to blame. He considered that imagination of his and imagined that, as a time lord, he could bend the rules a little and change what just happened. He’d like to tell himself that just one more second longer and he’d have given in. Months of longing, of need, of waking up to her every morning and doing sod all about it finally seizing their victory. He’d have wrapped his arms around her, tightening his hold and she’d have sensed his resolve. She wouldn’t have pushed him, though. Not Rose. No, she’d have softly encouraged him further, trailing her fingers up his back to reach the nape of his neck and he’d have felt her, heard her welcoming his advance and _finally_ finding it within himself to touch his lips to her skin, two or three kisses along her pulse point and breathing her in, feeling her heart rate increase to his touch. As his neck would tilt to move up hers, her hands would fall down to his shoulders and she’d tilt her head back ever so slightly, giving him better access to her neck - but no, not here, not with all of these people so close, so he’d have released her waist to take her hand, leading her away from the crowds and to their own escape, free to explore her and find alleviation in _them_.

But he _did_ let go. And now he was watching Rose talk to somebody who wasn’t him. Somebody else making her laugh when it should be _him_ making her laugh. 

It was utterly ridiculous, he knew that, how he didn’t want her to be with anybody else, yet wasn’t letting himself be with her. Selfish, perhaps is the better word to describe it. He’d thought about this far too much, how he’d let himself have one or two more years with her before he’d ask her to leave. For her own good, he'd tell himself. He knew Rose wouldn’t leave him out of choice, and the only chance for her to have a family, to be loved in the way that she should be, with somebody who will grow old with her and give his own life to her, would be to tell her he didn’t want her there anymore. He dreaded the day, knowing that she’d never forgive him and that he’d hurt her beyond resolve, but it was best for both of them. 

Christ, what a miserable end to the year this has been. 

Well, he wasn’t about to keep sitting, perched on this armrest, and watch this man mentally undress Rose so he pushed himself up and headed for the door. Once finally outside, the harsh December air brought instant relief; he felt like he could _breathe._ It seemed a bit farfetched that he was having difficulty breathing with a binary vascular system. He took it to prove that she held at least one of them, if not both. He groaned, slamming his back against the wall and closing his eyes.

_Right, 5 minutes, then back in there and sort this out. No, better yet: 5 minutes, then no more of this nonsense. You’re a time lord, you don't get involved and you definitely don't fall in love with a bloody mortal human. Pull yourself together._

“John, right?”

A man’s voice came from besides him. He didn't have to open his eyes to find out who it was, it would appear this evening had it in for him.

Fan- _fucking_ -tastic. 

“Yes.” He did open his eyes then, although not to look at Johnny. He stared angrily at the floor knowing full well this was his retribution for hurting Rose.

“John- _ny_.” He heard the smile in his voice. _Oh, bugger off Johnny, that grin only makes me like you less_. He’d held his hand out and the Doctor more than reluctantly shook it. “Bad night?”

_Well, if you can tell I’m having a bad night then what the hell are you still doing here?_

“Just needed a bit of air.”

“Yeah. Same.” _Great, something to bond over_. “You’re Rose’s friend, right?”

He was just about able to raise his eyebrows and give a firm nod in confirmation. Johnny shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“I’m getting the feeling you want to be left alone.” He held his hand up, a peace offering maybe, and the Doctor said nothing in return. “I just, er… well I just wanted to ask- “

The Doctor watched him nod his head a few times, debating how best to go about asking this request. He dreaded he knew what the question was going to be, but he dreaded more his reaction. 

“I just wondered, y’know. What was the deal between you two?”

“The deal?” _Come on, if you're planning on asking Rose out then at least act like you're an adult man._

“Yeah. Like, are you two…?”

Maybe this might do it, might actually end his suffering. Seemed unlikely - he had a feeling the universe wasn’t quite done with him yet. “No,” he said firmly. 

“Ah. Ok!” he sighed in relief, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “Phew! See, between me and you, me an’ Rose have always sorta had this thing, y’know? Back before she started dating Jimmy and she’d just always been in a relationship, so I’ve kept my distance- “

“Waiting for the right time to swoop in, I get it,” the Doctor muttered bitterly. “Look, I just want to be alone, so if you don't mind-”

He heard the kid sigh in irritation. Thankfully, after a moment too long, he took the hint, muttering something the Doctor was sure he could have deciphered if he’d had even just a hint of interest left in him somewhere, but he relished in the moment when he was finally left alone. Alone to think about how he’s going to manage to fake a smile when Rose tells him she’s not coming back with him tonight. 

_What_ has gotten into him this evening? Normally he was at least somewhat more successful at pushing these thoughts to the side, but tonight he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. He looked up at the sky, all those planets up there and felt… well, not nothing, exactly; he would always have that desire to see them, but the thought of leaving here and seeing them without her, like how he one day will have no choice but to-

He sniffed, pushed himself away from the wall and stepped back inside. Apparently, he couldn't escape himself, but he'd spend the rest of the night trying his hardest to, nonetheless. 

He’d rather not spot Rose being chatted up like any other ordinary woman in any other ordinary social setting, so he made a beeline for the kitchen. Slipping through the crowds, he was relieved to find it unoccupied, most people excitedly gathered in the living room with such a short time left to go. His eyes zeroed in on the kettle and he near groaned with relief. _A cup of tea._ Perhaps it was the fact that the very substance kickstarted his regeneration into fruition, but tea seemed truly capable of solving all problems, including this dire unending situation with Rose. No wonder he’d adopted quite the caffeine addiction. 

He searched the fridge for some milk, putting the kettle on and pulling out a mug. He was sure whoever’s house or party or what have you’s this was wouldn’t mind him helping himself to a cuppa-

“Sorry.”

He spun around at the sound of Rose's voice. She was leaning against the door frame, twiddling her bracelet awkwardly, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip. 

“Whatever for?”

She hesitated; her voice quiet when she finally did speak. “Y’know. Back then. Dunno, I just…” Her eyes searched for the words before she shook her head firmly in defeat. “Never mind." 

He watched her carefully. It pained him to see her disheartened in any sense of the word, let alone knowing that it was he who was making her feel so. He wanted to comfort her, give her anything she wanted. The problem was, he never knew how to. It turned out he could give her all of time and space if she asked for it, but she never did. She only ever asked for him, his words of comfort, his promises and vows to her. But, as luck would have it, that was the one thing he couldn't give her, and he dreaded to imagine but dared selfishly hope that that was something she _wanted_. 

Oh, he was bloody rubbish at feelings. He did know of at least one thing that was a guaranteed Rose fixer. “Tea?”

She grinned, her ease serving him relief. “God, yes.”

They entertained a comfortable silence whilst he made them both a cup and she smiled when he handed one to her. She glanced at her watch. “Twelve minutes - last cup of tea of 2006, better be a good one.”

“No pressure, then.”

Her chuckle, the way her tongue stuck between her teeth when she was teasing him, the glisten in her eyes when she _looked_ at him were all so mesmerising; he couldn't help but grin in return. She took a cautious sip of her tea and nodded slowly.

“Not bad.”

“I have a knack fixing up the perfect cup of tea for Rose Tyler.” He took a sip of his own tea: a bit strong for his liking. "I make you enough of them."

She sighed wistfully. “New year’s eve. I used to love it when I was a kid, maybe even into my teenage years- “

“You still _are_ a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!”

“I seem to recall on your twentieth you kept insisting to me you were _'twenteen'.”_

“And quite right, 'm not yet willing to admit to being in my _twenties_.”

“When you get to your hundreds, we can talk.”

She rolled her eyes. “Anyway. S’only recently that new year’s eve has just really started to… disappoint. Doesn’t really mean anything, s’just another day but people put a lot on it to be perfect. Last day of the year, first day of a new one. Think I was just angry at myself, mostly, for setting my expectations too high again.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted when some vaguely familiar woman rushed into the kitchen to grab a bottle of champagne from the counter. 

“Oh, could you be a dear and reach for that other bottle please, love,” she called to the Doctor, who regrettably pulled himself away from Rose to reach the top of the wine rack. 

“Ta.” She gathered the bottles in her arm and touched Rose’s arm on the way out. “Not long now, eh! Make sure you grab a flute so you're ready!”

Rose smiled warmly at her, that smile shifting a little bit too mischievously for his liking when she locked eyes on him once they were alone again.

“You don’t remember her name, do you?”

“Carol!" he claimed firmly. She raised an eyebrow, his confidence that answer rapidly dwindled. "Carolyn? Begins with a ‘C’ for sure.”

She scoffed. “Don’t just say that cos it’s the holidays and there’s carollers on TV.”

“Very funny. Her name is something along those lines, you can't tell me otherwise.”

 _“Janice!_ My aunty _Janice!”_

Ah, yes. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling rightfully ashamed. “But you do have an Aunty Carol?”

“No!”

Honestly, what was she doing with him? It would be different if he did actually remember the names and important details of her friends and family, but it turned out he apparently genuinely didn’t listen. She sipped her tea, that teasing smile of hers disappearing into it and he feared he sensed her disappointment. 

“I’m sorry, I'm bloody terrible I know,” he offered. 

“You are, yes,” she chuckled. “But I know how much you hate domestics, and we all have our dislikes. Mine for example is hearing about the evolution of the anatomical structure of some alien species, so consider me a gonner when you start whittling on about how the Fendahl used to have legs.” 

“But this is different. It’s your family and your life, I should pay more attention.” 

She was watching him carefully, her eyebrows creased together and her head tilting slightly in genuine concern. “What’s going on with you this evening, is everything alright?” 

“Nothing!” he said. Her expression sank in defeat; an impasse she knew wouldn't be resolved. “And I don’t hate domestics. Just not very good at them.” 

She finished her tea and made her way over to the sink to give the mug a rinse. “There’s not a lot of things you’re willing to admit you’re not good at. A few short of the truth if you ask me,” she laughed, picking up a tea towel and drying her mug. 

“Name _one_ thing I’m not very good at.” 

“Why can’t you ride a bike?”

“Not this aga- I _can_ ride a bike! But yes. Alright fine. I will admit to not being good at that either- “ 

“It’s _literally_ the one thing you’re never supposed to forget how to do!” 

“I doubt it’s the _one_ thing, I’m doing pretty okay at breathing I'd say.” 

“You also can’t touch your toes with your legs straight.”

“I’ve got long legs!” 

She laughed amusedly, tucking a strand of hair that was slowly unravelling behind her ear. She felt around the back of her hair for some grips and he grinned at the determination on her face. 

“Here, let me.” 

She’d turned to face the window by the time he reached her, and he searched her hair for the grip, carefully extracting it so as to keep as much of her bun in place. He reached for the strand of hair, the brush of his fingers inspiring a quiver in her shoulders, tiny goosebumps beginning to form down her neck. He tried hard not to get distracted by them, or to read too much into them because it almost certainly meant nothing. He tucked the strand of hair underneath her bobble, which was itself barely holding it together, so he unclipped another two grips, tightening their hold on her bun before slipping the final grip to hold that strand in place. He gently tapped her head to let her know he was done, and she reached behind her to take his hand, tilting her head to press a kiss on his fingers. He stilled, feeling the curl of her lips on his skin. 

“Thank you.”

He cleared his throat. “Not sure which I prefer: _‘time lord’_ or _‘Rose Tyler’s hairstylist’.”_

“Surprised you’re not gunning for both.”

“Oh, no. Two very important titles there, of equal importance. Got to give my all to one or the other.”

She chuckled. “I think I’d make a good time lord, how about you stick to being my hairstylist and I’ll take on all time-lord responsibilities?”

“That’s more or less our current dynamic.”

“Mmm,” she agreed, reaching behind him to grab a biscuit from the jar. She handed him one and he watched her nibble away at her own, licking her fingers carefully so as to not smudge her lipstick. 

“Just a heads up,” he pulled himself out of his trance, “Johnny’s asked for the ok to ask you out.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze lowering to the floor. “You two’ve been talking?”

“Wouldn’t call it talking. More like tolerating conversation.”

She nudged his waist. “Even still. Nice to hear you were able to tolerate conversation with one - no, _two_ of my mates tonight.”

“I’m not completely uncivilised- “

“Pa! That’ll be the day.”

They both jumped to the sound of Jackie’s voice at the door, barely acknowledging either of them as she reached for the plate of biscuits behind them on the counter. She grabbed a bag of crisps with her other hand, pausing to look at the biscuits. “You two been at these already? They were for after midnight!”

“Oh mum, it’s fine,” Rose laughed, taking one from the plate and offering it to her mum, who opened her mouth in acceptance. Rose slotted it in, the Doctor watching them both in mild disgust. 

“Anyway,” Jackie mumbled with her mouth full, “what’s this one moaning about now?”

“I’m not _moaning!_ ”

“He’s unhappy because I’ve called him out on not knowing the family.”

Jackie finished the last of her biscuit. “Oh don’t worry, I’ve drawn him up a star chart.”

The Doctor held up his index finger. “Family trivia quiz with Jackie, confirmed. It’s down in my calendar for several hundred new year’s eves from now.”

“See you next year,” Jackie called from over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.

“What was her name again?” the Doctor muttered.

Rose laughed, a charming laugh that warmed his centre. “Maybe 2007 will be the year you two get along.”

“I’ve seen into the future and I can confirm it is not.”

Rose’s face grew weary as she searched his eyes. He blinked, confused over the sudden change in atmosphere. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then hesitated, before swallowing her discomfort and going ahead. “I’m not one to talk, I don’t even know if you had any siblings.” 

He tried to keep his expression pain, although the sudden confidence she grew to ask him something personal threw him off guard. She watched him nervously before he saw her shoulders slump. “Doesn’t matter.” 

“Rose- “ 

“Na, really it doesn’t.” Her smile was small yet genuine, her eyes soft with reassurance. “We’ve got two minutes left of 2006, let’s not spend them talking about something that's uncomfortable for you.”

As a time lord, it seemed a bit silly that he felt so pressured by time when, in reality, time on Earth was an idea some bloke decided that these two minutes right now were the last of the current day and nobody’s bothered to disagree since. She looked hopeful, as though she genuinely wanted to talk about something different. “Alright, two minutes left of 2006. What do you want to do with them?”

“Oh, I don't know! You’re a time lord, make it last longer! Could go bowling or have a few goes on the slot machines at the arcade.”

He laughed. “Not how time works, Rose.”

It was worth it, at least, to see her giddiness in the search for something exciting to do in those final two minutes. She was looking around her for any sort of prompt before -

“Race you!”

She dashed away from him before he had the chance to compute what was happening. _Is she having a laugh?_ He spun around in just enough time to catch her dodging groups of people in the living room to reach the door and he cackled. _That woman is bonkers_ , he thought to himself as he sprinted after her, apologising to the people he knocked or whatever drinks he spilt over them along the way. 

The door was open, and he ran for it, the cold air finding him in a much better mood this time around. He quickly glanced left and right before spotting her, running to the end of the row of flats to the stairs at the far-right edge of the block. He could hear her manic laughter from here and, with no other obligations left of 2006 than to run after her, he ran, his long strides quickly gaining ground on hers. 

He reached the stairwell and swung the door open, the sounds of her heels only two flights below - less than, maybe. He took each step in double, pounding his was after her and laughing at her shrieks of fear. As they took the last flight of stairs, he saw her, dashing for the door and yanking it open and she yelped when she spotted him behind her. It didn’t take him long then, before he finally caught up to her and she screeched, her laughter echoing through the chasm of the estate. A light pattering of snow was falling, which was rare for December in London he had to admit, so he remained suspicious of its origin but thankful to the way the snowflakes caught in her lashes, the way her smile somehow seemed more enchanted by it.

 _“‘Race you’?”_ he panted. “What are you, _six_?”

“I panicked!” she laughed. “Besides, didn’t you challenge me to a race not two weeks ago on our way back to the TARDIS?”

“So, what, this is payback for losing?”

“I didn’t lose!”

“Well, you didn’t beat me and there was only us two racing, so make of that as you will.”

She smirked, her arms meticulously wrapping themselves around his neck. His hands appeared to have quite easily once more settled on her waist and he found himself, for the second time that night, in an intimate embrace with her. An event horizon that he only need not pull away to reach. Perhaps it was the hold her gaze had on his, or the cheering from nearby flats, or the smell of her perfume, or the simple fact that he just didn’t want to, he found himself incapable and unwilling to do so. 

“This time next year,” he started, “I’ll have memorised your entire family.”

She scoffed, leaning back. “Right.”

“I’m serious! I’ll need something to do when I’m sat all on my tod at your friend’s wedding.” She raised her eyebrow. “ _Shareen’s_ wedding,” he added, the faint sound of nearby crowds beginning to count down.

“You’ll be too busy talking to them all to sit down on your tod with mum's star chart.”

“You want me to _talk_ to them, too?” 

She tutted, releasing him to give him a playful slap on the arm. Her expression softened at his wince and her arms slipped under his, pulling her closer to rest her head against his chest. She sighed happily, locking her hands together behind his back. He didn’t let go of her, not this time. He closed his eyes in anticipation, but he didn’t feel her hands move up his back. He didn’t feel any kind of indication that she wanted this moment to change. 

He swallowed thickly. “One brother.”

“What?” she pulled back once more, her eyes searching his.

The Doctor cleared his throat. “I had one brother. And a niece. Although don’t expect me to tell you their names, you’d never be able to pronounce them.”

He expected some sort of quick comeback about how she didn’t even know _his_ name, but instead, she continued to watch him, her eyes growing sad and her lips parting in surprise. 

The snow had begun to fall heavier now, gently muffling the sounds of crowds above them becoming louder now as they reached twenty. Rose’s eyes flickered as she continued to read his, her eyebrows flinching slightly in what he could only assume was a response to her thoughts and he willed to only hear them. He imagined perhaps that what she was thinking, too. 

“Do you have any new year’s resolutions?” she whispered nervously. 

His hearts had begun to beat faster, and he lowered his gaze. It fell to her neck and trailed along the soft curves of her collar bone until it reached the small hollow at the centre. He wanted so desperately for his lips to be able to follow, to map out the path of his gaze, but when his eyes flickered back to hers, she was watching him sadly. His face softened in reassurance and he brought his hands to her cheeks, cupping either side to motion her towards him. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and another atop the bridge of her nose. Her hands found his wrists, holding him in place, keeping him here with her.

“Happy new year, Doctor.” She breathed when the erupting cheers around them marked the start of 2007. He couldn’t see her face, but by the sound of her voice, she was _happy_. No longing in her voice, no ache in the truth spoken; just completely happy as they were. He closed his eyes at the thought that it had to be enough to just hold her here in the Powell Estate, the rest of the world oblivious to them, safe in the knowledge that Rose Tyler started this year contented and unworried. 

His resolution for this year, he realised, was to make sure she ended it even more so.

“Happy new year, Rose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests always welcome @[loupettes](https://loupettes.tumblr.com/submit). My imagination is severely lacking, any prompts to nudge me in the right direction would be a welcome end to 2020! Merry Christmas 🎄


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